"petco" poems
I think the Illuminati is real
And your body's the peel and your soul is the fruit
And they goal is to steal and control all the juice
I seen way too many pyramids, that's from from Kufu
Foofoo ****** out here snaking on the reggo
You should ask a snake where its legs go
But then again I'm smoking on the medical
Got the white owl look like an egg roll
And that was Scooby snacks, Petco
I'm a lunatic that belong inside a loony bin
I burned it down for you because I love you
Now I'm movin' in
Ooh a condominimum, ****** in ya enema
Bumpin' Kanye like it just came out
No songs with Kendrick, we just hang out
They say a smart man looks like a mad man to a dumb man
But one man... wait I'm tweakin'
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 10:40 PM UTC
.
I looked
Thru the glass at a trembling lil thing
Beady eyes of a worried gerbil
In a worrisome place
The Petco by my house had
Everything you could have
-almost
Rhino's, Daffodil's
Lynx's, Gecko's & even
Alaskan Klee Kai's
Wrapped up in Saran wrap
Or in little glass cages
With little bobbly water dispensers
And kindly placed dishes
Holding nifty pellets of tasty food
That fits their Specialized Diet Plan
They don't have elephants yet
We'll have to ask the manager to order
some of those
Nov 11, 2012
Nov 11, 2012 at 1:16 AM UTC
let's talk about curiosity. let's talk about gas burners and sidewalk cracks and how there are french towns in canada where people who don't know each other greet each other with a kiss on each cheek. this is a collection of all the things you knew would hurt and then did them anyways but made sure i was looking. like all those kisses and trips to petco and looking at me from the drivers side-- don't take your eyes off the road, you'll end up like the rest of them did. let me tell you about how my favorite sounds include the following: crickets, gas burners lighting, coffee brewing, and you on the last train to god knows where but the train is coming soon. i can hear the trembling carts on the railway and i can hear you and your voice sounds like getting drunk off wine and witty jokes, sounds like the mantra of "temptation" but in the most subtle way as if i'd mistake it for something holy just to see if you'd notice, sounds like an epiphany i've waited too long to hear, sounds like every "let's talk about it" and "you look alluring" and "i just couldn't help myself" put into one. but mostly. this is what you're going to have to sit down for, because i won't repeat it. does perpetual comfort exist at your train seat? even when i'm not there? does she sit next to you? or is all the spilled tea pooling at my feet explanation enough? i won't repeat it. not even to the sidewalk cracks or the broken compasses or the birds or the torn down bus seat behind ours or into your voicemail. i won't. especially not into your voicemail. because here it is:
Sep 18, 2016
Sep 18, 2016 at 9:52 PM UTC
Darling my darling
i sometimes think of writing a letter to
you everyday
even though you are never far away
i sometimes still dream of him
but no matter,
this heart is yours.
remember when we first met?
a chilly winter night,
visiting the Petco cats
and playing nintendo
while your record player spinned.
Seems surreal now.
like that time
you laid yourself as a
blanket over me
and we watched outer space
on dewy grass
with hands clasped.
you spilled your secrets to me,
whispered them into my hair,
where they nestled and found warm dark
comfort there.
your lips
oh your lips
how not even the gods could forget
such two perfect
bows that tremble,
opening gently over mine.
somehow you breathed life into me
and that was the end to my
sad
ghost story.
so
darling
my darling
thank you
for unlocking something inside
of me
something that never stops
singing.
Jun 15, 2013
Jun 15, 2013 at 5:16 PM UTC
I've been hit by the blast you left in your quake,
Just the way everything does when your tail shakes.
Not ever letting me just walk down the hallway,
Without You walking in front and getting in the way.
Tearing up everything, you're always so curious,
Not ever leaving me anything but furious.
Stealing my spot on the couch while i'm sitting there,
Stealing the treats at petco like i'm a billionaire.
Always acting too hyper to know what you're doing,
Flinging yourself around and constantly chewing.
Running around and falling on the ground,
These things that used to bug me now leave me without a sound.
I miss all the weird quirks you had,
Even when you were just plain being bad.
Peter you were a great dog, maybe not to start but were to the end.
I'll see you again some day around the bend.
Jul 8, 2015
Jul 8, 2015 at 11:12 AM UTC
Sitting in my bedroom
Daydreaming about screams
Smoking like Charlie sheen
I'm not going to be seen
I'm sick of eating collard greens
Get this plate outta my face
Before I chase you around the house
Legs crossed on the couch
Too lazy to even open my mouth
Looking forward to seeing you because you actually got that invitation
I've got that transportation
We can ride together with our own designation, focus
Right now I'm looking at my wall
Feeling the sensation of my craziness
Call your phone to have a good conversation
Two bottle caps snapped back
Wearing my old snapback
Putting in the next track
I'm getting cold matter a fact
Strapped in a box loaded with socks
I would interact but I'm trapped in my mind
Sinking because of my Overthinking
Skimming through this book which is uplifting, focus
I'm gonna get high tonight
Mom said I can have a Tyrannosaurus but she lied again an instead gave me pie
I sighed and grieved for days
Then she told me she got me one and it died in the car
That was far long ago before I worked Petco
But I really give a crap though because I would of broke its neck anyway
Just saying, I would've got bored if playing
Am I stating I have something against prehistoric figures, well I didn't say anything about ******
Sitting in my bedroom
Aug 5, 2015
Aug 5, 2015 at 1:43 PM UTC
Sitting in the silence of my car
No moving,
Nor rushing,
Nor having places to be
I feel finally free
In the parking lot of PetCo I read poems
I ponder as people slip and slide
Into stores and cars and out of my life
They’re all rushing,
Full of movement,
Machines of motion and muscle
But in this moment the weight of their problems have lifted off my shoulders
I leave my body and lustfully linger in the stale air of solitude I’ve grown to admire
Trapped in its own world
As the passing are in theirs
I am the big open air
And the air behind doors
Of cars and of stores
Trapped or chosen
Inhaled and Ex
A calm culmination of momentary peace
May 2, 2022
May 2, 2022 at 2:40 PM UTC
My ghosts are hungry
this morning
and demand to be fed
or they won't shut up.
Where, exactly,
do you buy ghost food?
- mce
Apr 9, 2015
Apr 9, 2015 at 3:46 PM UTC